


Falling or Flying

by webofdreams89



Category: Glee
Genre: Canon Gay Character, Coming Out, F/F, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Gay Bar, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Character of Color
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-06 23:38:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/webofdreams89/pseuds/webofdreams89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re playing with fire, Quinn.”  </p>
<p>Leaning in close, her breath hot on Santana’s neck and ear, Quinn replied, “I know.”  </p>
<p>“It probably isn’t a good idea,” Santana said, adding, “for either of us.”  </p>
<p>“I know.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling or Flying

**Author's Note:**

> Goodness, I wrote this immediately after s04e14 in which Quinn and Santana hook up after Schue's not-wedding and then completely forgot about it until I was going through my files the other day. I don't think it's exactly my best work, but it's kind of cute and I really do like Quinn and Santana together a lot. So there will be some inaccuracies since season 5 is well under way. Thanks!

“Can I tell you something?” Quinn asked Rachel.  They were sitting on the couch in Rachel’s apartment, sipping cosmopolitans made from some of the liquor Brody left behind. 

“Cosmos are Carrie Bradshaw’s favorite drink,” Rachel told her friend while she mixed them.  As far as Rachel was concerned, Carrie was the height of classy City girl, and if she liked cosmos, that was good enough for Rachel.

“You can tell me anything,” Rachel said, setting her drink down to show Quinn she was listening.

Surprisingly, Quinn’s face turned bright red.  “Well, at Mr. Schue’s wedding, Santana and I, um, well, we sort of hooked up.”

Rachel’s jaw dropped.  “Excuse me, I don’t think I heard you correctly.  You and Santana _what_?”

“We had sex.”  Quinn’s voice was even, slightly terse. 

Given that both of Rachel’s roommates were gay, Santana being one of them, Quinn didn’t think Rachel should have sounded quite so shocked.  There was also that one time she dated Blaine and was happy when she found out he was her first gay boyfriend.  But that was all beside the point.  Quinn didn’t like that her best friend’s reaction.  It wasn’t like she announced she was joining a cult.

Reading Quinn’s reaction, Rachel quickly laid her hand on her friend’s arm.  “Oh no no no no, I’m not upset or anything,” she assured Quinn.  “I guess I’m just really surprised, that’s all.”

“Really?” Quinn asked, a grin cracking through her previously set jaw. 

Rachel smiled back.  “Well, yeah.  I always just assumed you were straight since you never indicated otherwise.  And was sort of holding out the hope that Santana and Brittany might get back together someday.  Brittany was good for her.”

“That’s good to hear.  For a second there, I thought you were mad at me.”

“Quinn, I don’t care who you love or have sex with as long as it’s safe, consensual, and you’re happy.”  Rachel took another sip of her cosmo before deciding to drain it.  “Want another?” she asked, gesturing towards Quinn’s glass.

“Sure,” Quinn said, following Rachel back to the kitchen.

While Rachel got to work, she glanced at her friend.  “I’m actually surprised Santana didn’t say anything about it.  Do you like her?”

Again, Quinn flushed.  “To be honest, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since that night.”

“Have you talked to her?”

“Yeah, but not any more than we usually talk.”

“I mean about the two of you, like in a romantic way.”

Quinn shook her head and bit her lip.  “No, but I want to.  That’s one of things I wanted to do while I was here.”

“You mean other than hang out with your fabulous friend Rachel?”  Rachel grinned, sliding Quinn’s drink across the counter to her before getting to work on her own. 

Laughing, Quinn said, “Other than that.”  She ran her finger through the condensation on the glass, distracted.  “Do you know if she’s, like, seeing anyone right now?”

Now Rachel’s smile spread wide across her face.  “Oh, you do really like her!” she said, squealing and clapping her hands.  Her own love life was a little lackluster at the moment after her break-up with Brody, but she was always thrilled when her friends were happy.

“Yeah, I think I do.”

“Well,” Rachel said, grabbing the alcohol and putting it back into the fridge, “the last I heard from Santana was that she went on a date with this girl a few times, only to find out that the girl wanted Santana to have a threesome with her and her boyfriend.”

Quinn made a face.  “Skeevy.” 

“No kidding.  Santana told the girl when they met that she was a lesbian, which I always took to mean she dates women.”

“Yeah, me too.”

They fell into a silence as they went back into the living room and sat down.  Rachel picked at a thread on the couch and stared at her friend.  Quinn did seem a lot more distracted than usual.  Of course, she’d seen Quinn when she was infatuated with Finn, with Puck, with Sam, but it was never this intense.

“Okay, how about this,” Rachel began.  Quinn jerked her head up suddenly from where she’d been staring off into space.  “I know we were all supposed to go out tonight, but how about I come up with some excuse for Kurt and me to be busy.  Some sort of NYADA thing.  You and Santana go out by yourselves, and you can see what happens from there.  That way, you can spend time with her, gauge her reaction.”

“I guess that could work,” Quinn said, mulling it over.  Truthfully, it might not be so bad.  And even if it turned out Santana didn’t want to pursue anything, Quinn could still have a few more moments with her before heading back to school to nurse her broken heart.

The night they hooked up wasn’t supposed to mean anything.  It was just supposed to be fun, a way to pass the time and maybe fill that void left by the disastrous relationship Quinn had with her professor.  She didn’t expect to head back to school with the feel of Santana still on her lips.

“Good!” Rachel said.  She jumped up, spilling her drink slightly and raced off to her bedroom.  After a moment, she peeked her head back out and said, “Well?”

Grudgingly, Quinn got up and followed her.  She was feeling a bit tipsy and had been perfectly content sitting on the couch lost in her own thoughts. 

Once in Rachel’s room, she saw that Rachel had placed Quinn’s suitcase on her bed.  “What sort of clothes did you bring to go out in?” she asked.

Quinn set her drink on Rachel’s dresser and moved forward.  She unzipped the suitcase and rummaged around inside until she found what she was looking for and pulled it out.  Holding it up before her, she saw Rachel critique it and shake her head.

“You can’t wear that, Quinn!”

“Why not?” Quinn asked, staring down at the garment.  It was a floral dress with a sweetheart neckline and full skirt.  It worked just fine when she went out at school.

“You want to make a statement to Santana, right?” she asked, hands on her hips.  Again, Quinn noted how differently Rachel dressed now compared to high school.  She had on a fitted long sleeve black dress and knee high boots, her sleek and stylish.

Quinn mutely nodded.  In a way that made her head begin to spin, Rachel bounded off toward her closet.  Her hands flew through the closet, hanger after hanger whipping past her until she landed on a garment and pulled it out.

“How about this?” she asked, turning around to show it to Quinn. 

“It’s perfect,” Quinn said in a hushed voice.  She ran her hand over the dress, feeling the soft fabric. 

“Try it on,” Rachel urged, handing the dress off to Quinn.

Quinn set it on Rachel’s bed and began to disrobe.  Once in the dress, Rachel stared at her and said, “You have to see yourself.”

She turned to the mirror and took in her reflection.  The neckline dipped between her breasts but it wasn’t super revealing.  It was cut tight to her body, accentuating her curves, hips, and ass before it fell in soft waves of fabric just above her knees.  It really was perfect.

“Santana’s going to die when she sees you in that,” Rachel said excitedly.

“What am I going to do?” Santana’s voice called from the living room.  The girls hadn’t even heard anyone come in.

“Hurry, change back!” Rachel hissed at Quinn before leaving her bedroom to head-off her roommate.  “Oh, I was just telling Quinn that you should be coming home soon.  Kurt too.”

“Oh,” Santana said, setting her purse and bags on the couch.  “What were you guys doing in your bedroom?”  Her voice was skeptical, a bit put-out, and Rachel took it as a good sign.

“Quinn was just showing me this new dress she bought,” she replied.  “It’s really cute.”

Appeased, Santana smiled.  “Cool.  I picked up a few things on sale today too.”  She reached into one of her bags and pulled out a shoe box.  “I know I probably shouldn’t have bought them, but they _were_ seventy-five percent off.”

“They’re adorable,” Rachel said when Santana lifted the lid, but by that time, Santana was already distracted by Quinn’s entrance into the room.

“Hey there, blondie,” she said, a small smile curling across her lips. 

 Quinn stared for a moment before returning the smile.  “Hey, Santana.”

They hadn’t seen each other since they parted ways the morning after they hooked up.  Thinking of her was one thing, Quinn realized, but she hadn’t been ready for the intense rush of emotions upon seeing her in person. 

Before the silence between the girls had the chance to lull them into uncomfortable territory, Kurt burst in through the apartment door. 

“Hi hi hi,” he said, a whirlwind.  He deposited his bag on the floor by the door and rushed over to Quinn, enveloping the girl in his arms. 

“It’s so good to see you, Quinn,” he said, squeezing her tightly. 

A wide smile broke out across her face.  She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed Kurt until then, not keeping in touch with him quite was much as she did with the girls.  “It’s good to see you too, Kurt.”

“So how are things on the dating front these days?  Anyone special?”

Quinn blanched.  Before Quinn had the chance to muck together some semblance of an answer, Rachel said, “Bad news, Kurt.”

His brows knitted together in worry.  “What is it?”

“Well, um, Anita called me a little bit ago and she’s, uh, going to need our help tonight.  It’s really important.  They don’t have enough people to help set up for the show tomorrow.” 

As Rachel spoke, she made a point not to look at Santana who would know immediately if she was lying.  She was probably skeptical as it was. 

“Why didn’t anyone get ahold of me?” Kurt asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh!  I said I’d pass along the message.  Because we’re roommates and all.”

“That’s weird.  Vaughn was just saying the other day that they were-” but he was cut off by a sharp look from Rachel.  He wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but he knew his best friend well enough to know that she wanted him to stop talking.  “But Jerry probably screwed things up again,” he added, and Rachel nodded.  “Jerry’s always doing that.”

Forcing a chuckle, Rachel said, “Yeah, that’s pretty much what Anita said.”

She finally glanced over at Santana, who looked rightly puzzled.  “We’ll be busy later, but why don’t you take Quinn out, Santana?  There’s no reason why you two should stay in just because we have school stuff.”

“Okay,” Santana said, the syllables slowly stretched from her mouth.  She turned to Quinn.  “That okay with you?” she asked.

Taking a deep breath, one that almost hurt with honesty, Quinn nodded.

\--

A few hours later, after Kurt and Rachel slid into their jackets and took off, Kurt turned to her and asked, “So just what the hell was all that about?  You know the show isn’t until next weekend, right?”

“Oh, I know,” Rachel replied.  She looped her arm through Kurt’s and together they strolled down to their apartment building’s elevator.  “Believe me, I had a very good reason for it.”

“Care to elaborate there a bit, Berry?”

“Just a moment,” Rachel said.  After they’d stepped into the elevator and the doors closed, she turned to her friend and said, “Quinn has a crush on Santana!”

Like Rachel’s had hours before.  “No freaking way!”

“Oh, and there’s more too.  At Mr. Schue’s almost wedding, they had sex.  And Quinn hasn’t been able to stop thinking about her since then.”

Kurt clutched his chest.  “This is a lot to take in.  I always thought she was so…straight.  I mean, with the prairie dresses and the religion, I guess I never saw her as anything but hetero vanilla.”

“I know what you mean,” Rachel said.  “But Quinn wants to talk to Santana, spend more time with her.”

“Does she think that getting drunk at a bar is going to help telling Santana how she feels?” Kurt asked, confused. 

“The going out part wasn’t about telling Santana how she feels, it’s about the dress,” Rachel said confidently.

“The dress?” Now Kurt was just plain baffled.

“I let her borrow my purple one,” Rachel said, letting the effect of her words take over.

Nodding, Kurt said, “Now I get it.  So she wants Santana to maybe think about her a little bit before she says anything.”

“I think that’s the plan.”

They stopped at the curb and hailed a taxi.  “That’s great and all, but what are we supposed to do until they leave and we can sneak back into our own apartment?”

\--

“So what do you want to do tonight, Fabray?” Santana asked while she peered at herself in the mirror.  She was in the bathroom putting her make-up on while Quinn sat at the vanity in Rachel’s room. 

Quinn’s mind began to race.  She knew where she wanted to, what she was curious to experience, but she didn’t know if she could just admit it to Santana.  But, she rationalized, if she was wanted to possibly pursue a relationship with Santana, then it was going to come with the territory.  So she had to just say it, just admit where she really wanted to go.

“How about we go to your favorite bar,” she said, just loud enough for Santana to hear.

Quinn heard her laugh.  “My favorite bar?” she asked.  “You know that’s a dyke bar, right?”

“I know.”

Santana frowned at her expression in the mirror.  She hadn’t been expecting that.  She thought that what happened between her and Quinn had just been a one-off, but maybe Quinn was realizing that she might be bisexual or something.  If that was the case, there was no way she could deny her friend that, not when Santana knew firsthand how hard it was to not be straight in this world.

So she decided she was going to make this as easy as possible for Quinn.  She made herself laugh and said, “Sounds like fun.”

Quinn flushed with relief.  Smiling at herself in the mirror, she smoothed berry lipstick over her lips and got to work on her hair.  She decided to go with simple waves, letting the dress do most of the talking for her.  When she was done, she slipped into her shoes and walked to the bathroom. 

Santana turned to her.  “Jesus, Fabray, you look hot,” she said, her eyes racking down Quinn’s body appreciatively. 

“So do you,” Quinn said, taking in the black dress that clung to Santana’s body. 

Santana grinned, smoothing the dress over her hips.  “You and me together, we’ll be irresistible.”

\--

The bar Santana took Quinn to wasn’t all that different from the straight bars Quinn had been to.  There was drinking, dancing, loud music, and people trying to talk over loud music.  The only difference was that girls were kissing other girls, were sitting in the laps of other girls, were grinding on other girls.  Quinn was pleased that none of it seemed the least bit strange or out of the ordinary to her.  Everyone seemed to be having a good time, and that’s what mattered.   

While Santana sidled up to a woman she seemed to know to score her and Quinn drinks, Quinn took in the surroundings.  The bar was different than what she’d imagined.  On tv, they always showed New York City bars to be huge with hundreds of people gyrating with glowsticks in their hands.  Granted, there was some of that going on here too, but not like Quinn thought there’d be.  The places shown on tv were probably technically clubs though.

The bar, a place called Helen’s, had tables along the walls with a dance floor in the middle, while the actual bar itself was lined with stool after stool with several cute bartenders doling out drinks.  But it was the people that were really interesting.  There were butch women and femme women but then there were also women that defied the stereotypes placed upon them.  Quinn saw butch women with long hair and femme women with short hair and women that fell somewhere in the middle, all talking, laughing, having fun.

She felt immensely at ease here, like she was acceptable and that the feelings she had for her friend were normal and not an abomination like her family told her growing up.  It was nice.

“Here you go!” Santana said over the music as she came back.  “It’s a tequila sunrise.  I figured Rachel probably pumped you full of cosmos earlier, so I thought you might like something different.”

“Thanks,” Quinn said, taking a drink to calm her nerves at being out with Santana alone.  The tipsiness she felt earlier was gone by now, making it hard to be around Santana completely sober.

A tall brunette walked up to them and, to Santana, asked, “Who’s the blonde?”

“Hello to you to,” Santana said sarcastically.  Turning to Quinn, she said, “This is Amy from work,” and to Amy, she said, “This is Quinn from back home.”

Amy grinned.  “She’s cute.  If I’d have known they made them like that in Ohio, I would have moved there a long time ago.”

Smiling back, Quinn said, “Believe me, you wouldn’t have.  Ohio’s very stifling.”

“So you moved here too?” Amy asked, moving in closer so they could hear each other better. 

“Just visiting,” Quinn said.  “Actually I live in Connecticut.”

“Quinn’s being modest.  She goes to Yale,” Santana said, beaming at her friend.

Amy’s eyes widened.  “Wow, that’s so cool,” she said, and took a step closer toward Quinn.

Narrowing her eyes, Santana wrapped an arm around Quinn’s shoulders, leaned in to her ear, and asked, “Do you want to dance?”

Quinn nodded.  She said good-bye to Amy, gulped down her drink and set it on a table as she followed Santana to the middle of the floor. 

\--

“I feel like I’m cheating on Breadsticks,” Kurt said after he downed his fifth breadstick of the evening.

“I know what you mean,” Rachel replied, contemplating the half eaten one she held in her hand, “but these are freaking delicious.”

They’d decided to check out a restaurant Kurt heard about from one of the boys in the Adam’s Apples.  Dinner was good, but it was only a short distraction.  Afterwards, they decided to catch a movie before finally heading home.

“We should probably be in our rooms before Santana and Quinn get back,” Rachel said.  “You know, just in case.”

“Yeah, that’s probably be a good idea.  I’ll be locking my door and digging out my headphones,” Kurt said, laughing.  “Just in case.”

\--

Later, after Santana’s drink-buying friend brought them several more rounds, Quinn noted through her drunkeness how nice it was to have Santana’s body so close to her own.  She was dancing behind Quinn, one hand loose on Quinn’s hip, pelvis coming into contact with Quinn’s ass again and again.  And each time, it sent fire through her body, a perpetual warmth low in her abdomen. 

At some point or another, they reversed positions.  Quinn laced her fingers through one of Santana’s hands while the other slid around her, splaying across Santana’s flat stomach. 

Turning her head so Quinn could hear her, Santana said in a husky voice, “You’re playing with fire, Quinn.”

Leaning in close, her breath hot on Santana’s neck and ear, Quinn replied, “I know.”

“It probably isn’t a good idea,” Santana said, adding, “for either of us.”

“I know.”

Then Santana turned around to face Quinn, wrapping her arms around her and pulling their bodies flush with one another’s.  Their lips met for the first time in weeks, tentative at first before quickly becoming heated, primordial. 

Somehow they found themselves back at the apartment, and Quinn was unsure of how they got there.  Rachel and Kurt were nowhere to be found which filled her with relief. 

Standing in the dark, Quinn turned to the other girl, softly saying, “Santana,” before they joined together, a clash of hands, lips, tongues, urging thighs.  They managed to make it over to the couch and Santana lay her friend down before she began kissing down Quinn’s body, untying her dress and lifting the skirt.  Quinn’s underwear and bra were tossed to the floor atop the rumpled dress, and then Santana was on her. 

Quinn’s thighs quivered around Santana’s head, fingers harshly digging into the couch cushions.  At some point, Santana paused to pull off her own dress, Quinn’s chest heaving as she watched Santana’s smooth bare skin appear.  But then Santana was back, on her, and Quinn could feel herself building and building until she dissolved into a nothingness so prevailing that it wasn’t until Santana came up for a kiss that Quinn could even feel her lungs start working again.

\--

“Holy crap, did you hear that?” Kurt asked.  He was lying in his bed watching a rerun of _Project Runway_ and talking to Rachel on his cell phone.  They had gone to their respective rooms so they didn’t have to sneak back later while Santana and Quinn were potentially going at it in the living room.

“I know, right?” Rachel said.  “I’m going to have to take the deep cleaner to the couch.”

Kurt rolled his eyes.  He loved his best friend, but she was a little bit of a germaphobe.  Honestly, a new couch slip would have been just fine.  “Well, it seems like your master plan is working.”

“Sex does not necessarily mean that they are dating now though, Kurt,” Rachel whined.  She wanted them desperately to be dating, to be happy, though she knew if it wasn’t right for them, then that would be okay too.

“That’s true,” Kurt admitted, “but from the sounds of the orgasm, it really couldn’t hurt.”

\--

Santana woke with a start.  Even before she opened her eyes, she knew it was still dark out, but that wasn’t what was wrong.  Her body was surprisingly cold, lacking.  It was then that she realized Quinn was gone.  Sitting up and looking around, she found Quinn sitting in the chair by the window sill, staring out, seemingly, at nothing. 

Gathering the sheet around her body, Santana got up and joined her.  “Hi,” she said, looking down at Quinn.  She sat there in only her bra and underwear and Santana found herself suddenly glad that no one in their neighborhood was likely awake at that hour to see her. 

Breaking from her trance, Quinn turned to look at her.  “Hi,” she replied, a small smile.

Santana reached out and cupped the side of Quinn’s head, kissing her softly at her hairline.  “I suppose we should talk.”

Quinn didn’t say anything, just watched as Santana knelt before her. 

Releasing a deep breath, Santana said, “I think you’re beautiful, Quinn.  Not just on the outside.  I think you’ve been through a lot and it’s made you so strong because of it.  You know me.  You know I don’t let a lot of people in, but somehow here you are.”

“I think I’m falling in love with you, Santana,” Quinn admitted, taking Santana’s hand.

Santana smiled.  “I _know_ I’m falling for you, Quinn.”

“I just don’t know where that leaves me.  Am I bisexual?  Am I a lesbian?  Does this mean we’re going to be together now?”  Quinn averted her eyes as she said this.

“Well, only you can figure out what your sexuality is.  Maybe you’re simply Santana-sexual.”  Santana smiled at her cheekily, making Quinn giggle.  “And believe me, I know how absolutely terrifying it is.  I mean, I was outed on national television.  But you can also take your time figuring it out because there’s no rush. 

“As for us being together-” Quinn held her breath, “-I think I’d really like that.  I can’t guarantee that I’m completely over Brittany.  If this is going to happen, you have to know that.  She’s always going to be my first love, just like Finn was yours.”

Quinn laid her hand on Santana’s cheek.  “I understand, and maybe I don’t completely like it but I _am_ okay with it, especially if it means we can at least try to make this work.”  She leaned forward to meet Santana’s lips, arms wrapping around each other.

A few minutes later, Santana pulled back some and said, “Come on, blondie, let’s go back to bed.  In the morning, you can buy me breakfast.”

\--

In the morning, Rachel waited until she was positive Santana was in the shower before she burst out of her room and into the living room.  Kurt, who was already awake and getting a cup of coffee, said, “Down girl.”

“Well?” she demanded as she closed in on Quinn. 

Her smile gave it away.  “We’re going to try it out,” she said.

“Yes!” Rachel yelled, her fist pumping in the air.

“You have way too much energy in the morning,” Kurt said, shaking his head.  After composing herself, Rachel headed over to the kitchen and poured herself coffee as well.  “Oh great, and now she’s pumping caffeine into her system too.”

Quinn giggled.  Everything was funny right now because she was so damned happy.  While Kurt and Rachel argued over who got the last of the Special K cereal, she left the living room and snuck into the bathroom.

Nearly two hours later, after much showering and primping, the four were finally ready to go out for breakfast.  They walked the few blocks to their favorite restaurant, Kurt and Rachel on one side of the booth and Quinn and Santana on the other.  The dinner itself reminded Quinn a lot of ones you’d see back home in Ohio and nothing like she imagined New York restaurants to be.  She was finding herself both surprised by the city and enjoying it, now that she was here for more than just a show choir competition.  She’d heard that Columbia had a good grad school program, so after she graduated, New York City was a definite possibility.

It was while the waitress, a plump woman wearing a peach uniform dress, brought their food.  Santana kissed Quinn’s temple while she reached for her plate, and Quinn tensed.

“Well aren’t you too just the cutest couple?” the waitress asked, smiling at them.  She had a southern accent, another surprise.

Quinn relaxed, squeezed Santana’s knee, and knew that if they really worked at it and persevered, they could make it through Quinn’s insecurities, through other people’s bigotry, through Santana’s wall as long as they had each other.

End.

\--

A/N: I get to make fun of Ohio. I’m from there.  Also, I made up the bar.  So if there really is a lesbian bar in New York City called Helen’s, then it’s just a coincidence.  This bar is based on one I went to in Toledo where there really was an Amy who tried carting off the girl I came with.


End file.
